Upper Class (Higher Learning Book 3)

Keeping these kids alive was going to a challenge. Miguel Berger grabbed one of his nephews off the top of the winding, sleek mahogany railing, trying not to cringe as the toddler smeared melted chocolate—where the hell had he gotten that?—on his cheek. He could deal with a bit of a mess.

What he couldn’t deal with was the triplets constantly disappearing on him. Or climbing everything. Or deciding bedtime was the perfect time to play hide-and-seek.

“Alvin!” His cheeks heated as he heard his own voice echo around the huge house, still not used to calling out that name and sounding like the dude from the chipmunk show he’d watched as a kid.

What had his sister been thinking, naming her boys after cartoon rodents?

His throat tightened as he recalled the mischief in her eyes when she’d proudly told him and their mother her sons’ names. Two days before she died. He’d teased her about it, but looking back he wished he’d made better use of the little time they’d had left. Told her how proud he was that she’d managed the family business while preparing to be a single mother. Told her that she was his fucking hero.

Sitting Theo on his hip, he started down the steps, following the faint giggles coming from the direction of the kitchen. He winced as he took in the mess. Alvin and Simon peeked out from behind the cabinet doors under the island, each holding a squirming puppy, faces covered in flour and chocolate. Ms. Velour, the cook, was going to kill him if he didn’t get this cleaned up.

But first, he had to get the boys cleaned up. And in bed. Mom had them on a good schedule, but he couldn’t seem to get them to stick to it. Ms. Velour and their nanny, Mx. Robinson never had a problem, so he’d figured he’d be fine taking over while they were on their honeymoon.

What a fucking joke. You’d make a horrible parent, Miguel. You’re about as commanding as a wet chihuahua.

Probably less. The tiny, yappy things were confident, despite their size. He’d seen a few when they’d gone to the shelter to get the triplets their puppies. Thankfully, Mom had steered them away from the little dogs, choosing instead to adopt three English Shepherd puppies who’d been seized in a raid on an unethical breeder.

The lady at the shelter had told them the three puppies had been kept in a small cage together, taken from their mother too early by the breeder in an attempt to sell them. The mother had died and the shelter spent months nursing the puppies to health. One of the puppies, which Theo had named Pancake, had been adopted at one point, but the owner brought him back when he’d gotten sick again.

Seemed like the puppies didn’t do well when separated, so the shelter attempted to find someone who’d adopt them together.

Mom had been all too willing. They’d planned on one dog for all three boys, but they had a big enough place. Enough staff to help care for them.

This was before Mom had gotten sick. Before she’d asked him to move back home to take care of his nephews. Now…

I’ll figure it out. I have to.

“Come on, boys. Bath time.” He set Theo down when the four-year-old started wiggling, smiling a little when he ran over to his brothers and the three whispered to one another. They did that a lot, which was the only reason he didn’t worry too much about them not talking to him or anyone else.

Their therapist had said big changes in their life might be the reason for it and to give them time. Get them to stick to their routine and let them know they could count on him to be there for them.

The latter he could do.

A quick bath, pajamas on with only a little jumping on the bed and laughing while he chased them, and Miguel finally had all three boys settled down. He grabbed the baby monitor and brought it downstairs, two of the puppies on his heels.

Pancake and Cricket.

He frowned, closing the kitchen door after a quick check so they wouldn’t get into the mess. Boots, the biggest puppy, usually barrelled ahead of him, bolder than the other two, much like his master, Simon. After the triplets were in bed the puppies usually stayed close to him in the office, while he worked on assignments for the business courses he arranged to finish online since he’d come to take care of the boys.

The impromptu game of hide-and-seek had started about an hour ago. He’d been stressed about how late it was getting. The boys had been acting up all day. But, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen Boots in awhile.

He looked down at the other two puppies who started wrestling at his feet. “Got any clue where your brother is?”

As expected, neither replied. Or even acknowledged him. They made little growling noises, then ran off into the open area near the sitting room where he kept all their toys.

Rubbing a hand over his closely trimmed beard, he stood in the hallway and considered where he should start his search. The house had four floors. His mother was on the third one, with her nurse and that area was closed off, as was the fourth floor where his sister had set up her art studio and a rooftop greenhouse.

Which left the second floor where he and the boys had their rooms. And this floor.

He didn’t want to disturb the boys’ sleep if he didn’t have to, so he’d start here. The kitchen was empty. As was the sitting room. The living room. The office.

Whining drew his attention to where the puppies were playing. Cricket was trying to climb up onto the big round, dark blue plush half-sofa. Above it was a window.

The light curtains stirred in the breeze and Miguel’s stomach sank. He rushed out the front door, closing it behind him with a slam and running around the side of the house. A few dog toys lay in the grass which needed to be trimmed, but thankfully hadn’t been over the past two weeks since he’d been here. It must have cushioned Boots’ fall.

He crouched down and saw more grass had been crushed in a wider circle, as though Boots had been running around. But he couldn’t tell which way he’d gone.

And he couldn’t leave the boys alone to search.

He’d have to wake his mother’s nurse and see if she could keep an eye on them. Then he’d head out.

He had to find that puppy.

The boys had already lost too much.